In the q&a that followed his speech, one answer got close to the core of his personality. What motivated him still, after all these years and so many runs? Dravid said that as a schoolboy he remembered many kids who had at least as much desire to play professional cricket as he did – they attended every camp and net session, no matter what the cost or the difficulty of getting there. But you could tell – from just one ball bowled or one shot played that they simply didn’t have the talent to make it. He knew he was different. “I was given a talent to play cricket,” Dravid explained. “I don’t know why I was given it. But I was. I owe it to all those who wish it had been them to give my best, every day.”
What a brilliant inversion of the usual myth told by professional sportsmen: that they had unexceptional talent and made it to the top only because they worked harder. Dravid spoke the truth. Yes, he worked hard. But the hard work was driven by the desire to give full expression to a god-given talent.
On the field, what set Dravid apart was a rare combination of technical excellence, mental toughness and emotional restraint. He was restrained in celebration, just as he was restrained in disappointment – exactly as the true gentleman should be. And yet his emotional self-control co-existed with fierce competitiveness and national pride.
Dravid single-handedly disproved the absurd argument that tantrums and yobbishness are a sign of “how much you care” or, worse still, “how much you want it”. He was rarely outdone in terms of hunger or passion. And he was never outdone in terms of behaviour or dignity. Those twin aspects of his personality – the dignified human being and the passionate competitor – ran alongside each other, the one never allowed to interfere with the other. He knew where the boundaries were, in life and in cricket.
I am an optimist by nature. I do not think that sport is perpetually declining from some mythical golden age. But sometimes I cannot avoid the sense that a certain type of sportsman is an increasingly endangered species. I have that feeling now, as Dravid declares his innings closed. No longer will he take guard with that familiar hint of politeness, even deference. No longer will he raise his bat to the crowd as if he is genuinely thanking them for their applause – the bat tilted outwards in acknowledgement of the supporters, not just waved frantically in an orgy of personal celebration. No longer will he stand at first slip, concise and precise in his movements – a cricketer first, an athlete second. No longer will the high Dravid back-swing and meticulous footwork link this generation with the great technicians of the past.
It would be nice to argue that no cricketer is irreplaceable, that sport is defined by continuity rather than full stops, that there will soon be another Dravid, another champion cricketer of timeless steel and dignity. But I don’t think there will be. I think Dravid will be remembered as the last in a great tradition of batsmen whose instincts and temperament were perfectly suited to Test match cricket. It is not an exaggeration to say that a whole strand of the game – a rich vein that runs through the game’s poetic heart – departs the scene with India’s greatest-ever No. 3. Playing T20 cricket won’t teach anyone to become the next Rahul Dravid.
In years to come, perhaps too late, we may realise what we have lost: the civility, craft and dignity that Dravid brought to every cricket match in which he played.
Ed Smith is a former England, Middlesex and Kent player and the author, most recently, of Luck – What It Means and Why It Matters. This article was first published on ESPNcricinfo on March 13, 2012
Dravid took five catches in the Chennai Test against Australia in 1998. Four of the catches were off Anil Kumble, and one off Venkatapathy Raju.
[ 10 ]
The eternal student
GREG CHAPPELL
Men don’t say these things, but I have a genuine affection for Rahul Dravid.
What’s not to like about him? He is a nice guy who is genuine, tough, strong, honest, reliable, and very dependable; and one hell of a cricketer to boot.
Rahul gave everything he had on the cricket field, and you can’t ask for more than that. He wasn’t prepared to give less than that.
He was an excellent deputy, in that he gave whole-hearted support without ever thinking he might be better than the incumbent, and when he got the job he was a much better captain than he will ever be credited with.
Rahul Dravid is a thinking man’s cricketer. Everything he does on the cricket field and off it is well-considered. He is not prone to making rash decisions or ill-considered remarks.
He became an excellent player because he had thought it through and worked out what he needed to do to succeed. His success did not come by accident and it wasn’t just about hard work. He was an extremely skillful player who never stopped trying to improve himself. If he thought he could get better at something, he analysed what he needed to do and then worked hard at making the improvement.
Rahul is an avid reader, who reads in the search of knowledge with which to improve himself. He is like a child in that he constantly asks questions and then asks why when you give him an answer. I like that he challenged me to substantiate my arguments with sound reasoning.
I also like that once he was convinced, he could make instant adjustments to his game. I remember one such occasion in a Test match at Feroz Shah Kotla Stadium in Delhi during a series against Sri Lanka. The wicket was not easy to bat on because it was low and slow, and Sri Lanka had a fellow called Muralitharan who could bowl a bit and who was making life difficult for most Indian batsmen.
Muralitharan took 7 for 100 in the first innings, in which Sachin Tendulkar made a patient century. Rahul was one of many who had found scoring runs against Muralitharan difficult in the first innings. Over dinner that night, he asked me how I thought he could play him better in the second innings. I said that under the prevailing conditions I thought it was tough to do more than he had done that day. He wouldn’t accept that as an answer and insisted that I do better, so I said that he had to look for scoring opportunities off every ball, no matter how hard it was.
Batting for survival against Murali in those conditions, I said, was not an option. Even if you succeeded in surviving, you wouldn’t make any runs, so the game would be lost anyway. When one thinks of survival, the feet do not move well, which means that scoring opportunities will be missed. This, I said, is a sure way to boost the bowler’s confidence. The best way to build your own confidence and dent that of the bowler is to score off every poor ball he bowls and some of his good ones. The only way to do that, I said, was to look to make the “danger zone” (the area a metre or so in front of a good stride forward) as small as possible by scoring from any delivery pitched marginally full there or short of it.
Rahul asked me to explain further. I said that it was my opinion that the best way to survive was to be positive in intent. By intending to score runs off every ball one would actually give oneself a better chance of defending against the good balls.
Rahul became excited by the prospect of batting in the second innings and was quick to ask me to throw some balls to him on the outfield the next morning so that he could practise the mindset that we had discussed.
That he went out and scored a fluent 53 (run out) that day was more about his ability to interpret my suggestion than the suggestion itself.
In that way, he was eminently coachable. He could take concepts and turn them into action because of his intelligence and a strong belief in his ability. To be prepared to do this in the middle of a Test match took courage. It was that sort of courage that made him the player that he was.
The same courage and belief made him a good captain. His propensity to think things through may have meant that he was always going to appear conservative tactically, but going by that would be to underestimate his ability to take calculated risks.
Rahul wanted to make India a tougher team. He knew that for that to happen, things had to change. India had won
very few times when chasing a target in ODIs. This was because they had no plan other than to attack, which could be spectacularly successful or just as spectacularly not.
Rahul knew from his own experience as a player that success did not come by accident, so he sought to change the way India went about their ODI cricket. He knew that partnerships were important when batting and that the best way to slow the opposition run rate down was to take wickets. Early wickets were important, but so were wickets in the middle overs of a one-day game. Up to that point, India had been happy to try to contain with the ball and attack with the bat. Rahul decided to reverse the game plan.
He wanted to take wickets regularly, so he identified bowlers who swung the ball, such as Irfan Pathan and Sreesanth, and someone who got bounce, like Munaf Patel. He also wanted a spinner, such as Ramesh Powar, who attacked and took wickets in the middle overs.
With the batting, he wanted partnerships, and good finishers who had poise and power – the likes of MS Dhoni and Yuvraj Singh. More than that, he wanted to use his batting strengths according to situations rather than be tied to a set batting order. On occasions he used Pathan at the top of the batting order to utilise his hitting power while the ball was hard and coming on to the bat. He knew that Pathan found it harder to do that when the ball was soft and the spinners were operating, later in the innings. This approach was far from conservative and was spectacularly successful.
To learn how to get better at chasing a target, Rahul kept asking the opposition to bat first, no matter the conditions. Under his leadership, India won nine ODIs in a row against Pakistan and England, and went on to complete a world record of 17 consecutive wins batting second.
A similar approach to Test cricket brought about India’s first overseas series victory in the West Indies for 35 years and a first-ever Test victory in South Africa, which could quite easily have been turned into a series win if the team had batted better in the second innings in the final Test in Cape Town.
Sadly the success of the team was not universally enjoyed within the team. Some individuals felt threatened by the new world order and appeared to work against Rahul. Had he been given the same whole-hearted support in the role that he had given others, I think the recent history of Indian cricket may have been very different and he could have gone on to become the most successful Indian captain ever.
Former Australia batsman Greg Chappell was India’s coach for much of Rahul Dravid’s tenure as captain
In an ODI against South Africa in Kochi in 2000, Dravid outbowled Anil Kumble, taking 2 for 43 against Kumble’s 0 for 48.
[ 11 ]
The master will see you now (and always)
SURESH RAINA
When I think of Rahul Dravid, apart from all that he achieved in cricket, I think of his simplicity, discipline, and the way he conducted himself on and off the field.
In all my time with the Indian team I never saw him late for anything – training, team meetings or any group activity. And he gave his complete attention to everything he did, whether it was a team dinner or leading the squad to a social gathering. He took all his responsibilities seriously.
As a youngster, I found it easy to chat with him. He was always available and had tips for us about life outside cricket. He always gave equal importance to every player, regardless of whether he played for India or not. And his interest was genuine.
Looking at him and listening to him, you understood how he had managed to lead the kind of life he had. And watching him closely, you understood why people looked up to him.
I always felt motivated when I chatted with him. As captain, his speeches in the dressing room and on the field were simple, but they spurred you to do well. He communicated in a language you understood and he paid attention to every player in the team.
I got a duck on my international debut, trapped leg-before by Muttiah Muralitharan. I was terribly disappointed, but Rahul bhai told me I should not let it weigh me down because I had 10-15 years of cricket ahead of me. It was a simple thing to say, but the way he said it made all the difference. It helped me lift my head and believe in myself.
This was in 2005. As a young player it was difficult for me, Venugopal Rao and even MS Dhoni to say much during team meetings, but Rahul bhai always made it a point to listen to us and gave us a lot of confidence through these interactions. That was his other strength: to engage youngsters and let us realise that even if there were no senior players in the team, the younger players were capable of taking over.
One of my fondest memories is of Rahul bhai leading India to victory in the Test series in West Indies in 2006. His magnificent fifties in Jamaica can never be forgotten, and I watch videos of those innings, and his Adelaide century, from time to time, as they teach me so much. He tirelessly supported Test cricket and never forgot to point out to us that no matter how much one-day and T20 cricket we played, it was important to perform in the five-day game because the satisfaction of scoring a hundred in a Test match was a completely different feeling.
I was really happy when he was the one who gave me my Test cap in 2010 in Sri Lanka. “Welcome to the league,” he said. “You have been outstanding in ODIs and Twenty20. Now this is the real cricket. Just go and play your natural game. I believe in you.” I scored a century in the match, which made Rahul bhai very happy. He told me how pleased he was, and also how lucky I was compared to him, since he had got out on 95 on Test debut at Lord’s.
It was not only in the good times that he put an arm of support around me. During the toughest phase of my career, he stood by me and helped me stay strong. Immediately after the 2007 World Cup I was dropped and then suffered a knee injury. I was out of the Indian team for nearly 15 months. I was young, without any support and mentoring, and I was disappointed and desperate.
I travelled to England, where India were on tour, to have John Gloster, the team physio, take a look at my knee. Rahul bhai told me not to hurry back. He suggested that I spend time with my family and not worry too much.
During this time I was at the National Cricket Academy in Bangalore, and he came for some net sessions ahead of a Test tour. He stressed the importance of fitness and told me to concentrate on proper training and gym sessions. He stayed in touch and texted me every time I did well, like when I was the Man of the Tournament in the Challenger Trophy.
I am probably one of the few people who got his Test and ODI caps from the same person. Just like he did while handing me my Test cap, he said a few interesting things while handing me my ODI one. He said a lot of glamour, fame and money would surround me as an international player but the key thing for me to keep in mind at all times was to never lose my focus on cricket, to be disciplined and remember what I am as a person.
A good way to not lose focus, he said, was to never miss optional team training sessions. He never missed them because he could get more time to face the net bowlers, get more quality feedback from the coaches and senior players, because they would have more time to focus on him. Taking my cue from him, I have never missed any optional nets. I believe such inputs come in handy and make a good cricketer.
As for insights into my game, Rahul bhai never asked me to change anything. Before the 2011 tour of the West Indies, there were several doubts raised about my technique against the short ball. He understood the pressure I was under and told me it was all in the mind, and that I should just ignore what others said about me. He said the pitches in the Caribbean were some of the toughest to bat on and that he was impressed with my technique. I was leaving the short ball well, he said, and that my back-foot play was very good, so the only thing I needed to continue doing was to stay positive.
As a player Rahul bhai was always focused. He could maintain a clear head for several hours in challenging conditions on all kinds of pitches, in all formats. It is easy to admire him for these virtues but you also wonder how he could manage
those levels of concentration. I believe his focus was a result of the simple life he led. He was down to earth, calm, and never had any interest in stuff like cars and bikes. He was not attracted to the glamour attached to a cricketer’s life. If you looked into his kit bag, it was always clean. He wore simple and elegant clothes.
Don’t be fooled by his simplicity, though. He played with a lot of passion and could never swallow defeat easily. When we lost the one-day series in 2006 in the West Indies, he was very angry and said we should have performed better.
He attached great importance to the India cap. I remember him taking on Jimmy Anderson after the defeat at Lord’s in the 2011 one-day series. It was a rain-affected match, which we lost from a winning position. Rahul bhai told Anderson, without mincing any words, that a young Indian team would thrash England when they came to play one-dayers in India. It’s a good thing then that we won the home series 5-0!
Rahul bhai was more than a team-mate to me. He introduced me to a yoga teacher at the NCA to learn visualisation and meditation techniques from. When I used to stand in the slips with him and VVS Laxman, he would ask about my family, about life in the Uttar Pradesh hostel system from which I had graduated, and then move on to talk about dinner plans. His ability to switch on and off was amazing.
During the Tests in England in 2011, I was struggling with form, and asked for his opinion. He asked me to relax, took me to a theatre in London, and invited me to share dinners with his family, with whom I now have a very warm relationship. It was good to see this focused cricketer could switch off once he stepped off the field.
Rahul Dravid: Timeless Steel Page 6
